Long Categorized Poems
Long Categorized Poems. Below are the most popular long Categorized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Categorized poems by poem length and keyword.
Germane generic geeky guy
five sixths enroute
to complete lxiv luxurious Earth orbits
experienced chronic, demonic,
physiologically hegemonic...
irritable bowel syndrome
without shadow of a doubt,
yet aforementioned plight
the following lines of poetry
will not be about
problematic posterior plague.
After contemplating discomfort
linkedin with said medical condition,
yours truly realized aftermath
of Hurricane Ian concerning
those who weathered category storm
suffered a fate much worse
subsequently, I took a brief hiatus
typing lines of impossible
to understand questionable verse
challenging proclivity of one
yawping wordsmith being terse
yeah right you probably think
crowning glory upon
mine nonestablishmentarian literary endeavors
hands down majority of anonymous readers
would immediately qualify
his swiftly tailored prolix harried style
unquestionably, obviously, and irreverently
imposing expansive vocabulary as perverse,
no doubt hurling expletive donned curse
at me with every stinging breath they took.
The previous writing endeavor
attached catchy title
at outset intent to brook
unspoken protocols analogous to river,
which overflows banks swallowing
entire metropolitan areas
categorized as biblical flood
believed to occur once
every five hundred year
exhibiting impact greater
than storied facebook
(as personal side note,
said creation a markedly popular
social media platform)
influencing great swaths of populace
allowing, enabling, and providing
user trademark friendly look,
which ineluctably draws innocent naif
into webbed wide world,
where coders fashioned
innocuous virtual pitfalls
many a stalwart devout
online interoper figuratively snagged
courtesy tempting virtual,
lock, stock and withal
ingenious (some might chime in –
nefarious, opprobrious, pernicious...)
neigh vee tailhook.
Moments & Memories
By: Tom Wright
Dec. 2, 1998
What is a moment,
but an undetermined increment in time?
Some of which as we look back,
we've categorized as tender and sublime.
Still others, are remembered,
with much less Joy and glee.
Today, serves as example,
for it holds sad memories for me.
Memories of death,
of a precious Mother now gone.
Left with but her memory,
which makes me never alone.
Cherished moments with a loved one,
that make up our years.
Though often recalled,
still bring sadness and tears.
Within each persons life,
comes a time of sad parting.
And in Death's moment
eternity is starting.
While new friends may come,
and old friends may go.
Our Mothers are forever,
their memories make it so.
Suicidal Ideation March 30th, 2022 linkedin...
to mein kampf insync with mine body dysmorphia
After reading articles
published within April 4/11 2022
of The Nation
I challenged the efficacy
taking prescription medication
categorized as SSRIs
and/or SNRIs.
Unpleasant side effects
such as earth shaking dreams
and/or especially hefty weight gain
linkedin with former
comprising my daily cocktail
of approved prescription medication
courtesy nurse practitioner.
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche
fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty three)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Shayna Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide in tandem
with Old Rotten Gotham
into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention
offspring boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
Can you imagine being chained in a ship and taken to a strange land against your will?
Can you imagine you and yours being shackled and sold to farms to work the land?
Can you imagine being whipped for just saying something or looking the wrong way?
Can you imagine your wife or daughter being used as brood mares to create more workers?
Can you imagine your loved ones being categorized just like any other livestock?
Can you imagine finally acquiring your freedom after a lifetime of imposed servitude?
Can you imagine a country founded on the ideal of freedom denying it to so many?
Can you imagine being hated and treated unequally just because you looked different?
Can you imagine being hunted by people in hoods with bibles and crosses in their hand?
Can you imagine being in fear for your life just for walking someplace or talking to someone?
Can you imagine seeing your father or son in a hangman’s noose swinging from a tree?
Can you imagine not being able to use a bathroom just because you were the wrong color?
Can you imagine having to scold your child for using one of those bathrooms?
Can you imagine being told that you cannot ride in a seat in the front of the bus?
Can you imagine being told there is no vacancy at a motel when you know there is vacancies?
Can you imagine people not serving you at a restaurant because you were not the right color?
Can you imagine people crossing the street because they feared walking by you?
Can you imagine having feelings for someone but not acting on them because of others?
Can you imagine being gunned down by those who are supposed to protect and serve?
Can you imagine being sprawled out on the ground with someone’s knee on your neck, struggling for every breath, asking for your mother, knowing the life is slowly draining from your body and wondering why?
Can you imagine?
I wonder how aware they are,
what shadowy sense of self
occupies their brain. Perhaps
no more than a flicker
of consciousness glows
in the far reaches
of an inner dark,
sufficient to propel them
here and there for food
and find a mate,
just printed circuits of flesh
programmed for survival.
They seem content
in their grace, moving gently
through the sunlit water,
swimming towards me.
What picture do they have
of me. Am I just a shape
categorized by the level
of threat I pose, a button
for them to push to get
a piece of bread, an oddity
in their way.
And yet we are here,
knitted together in this gifted
moment, alive, each encased
in an identity, confined
to our little bubbles of being,
floating the surface
of some infinite
and unfathomable mystery
where all minds meet -
although I'm eternally grateful
that I'm not a swan,
I don't like cold feet.
Separated by their titles
categorized by their depth
the greatest to the least greatest
honor them that are great that a world
might speak of their efforts
speak them as great
that a world might bow and honor
them
Whisper their names in circles
speak them to award their deeds
the curtain must fall by evening
might the show to be reviewed
might the thespians be poets
we are to argue till their songs are thru
yet reason speaks of knowing
that the best are honored and adorned
what speaks to those who are struggling
that each branch have pricks and thorns
Congratulations that I envy
might thus than inspire next
those who write beyond meaning
I applaud to say are best
ART
A esthete, I am for I love, love and appreciate works of art and
B eautiful things including alluring women and good looking men.
C reativity of the artists on display, being appreciated and critiqued.
D ance, movements matching the speed and rhythm of the music.
E xpression of emotions, self-expression through body movements.
F ine art, collective term for art created to be beautiful, not functional.
G oals are set by true artists to stay motivated and grow.
H armony and contrast, one of the principles of art.
I magination could be expressed in ideas, feelings, words.
J ewelry making, designs are created by compare and contrast of metals.
K een sense of perception creates an outstanding piece of art work.
L iterature, written works of superior or artistic merit.
M usic, art of arranging sound to create form, harmony, melody, rhythm.
N atural talent is a gift, lack of it can be overcome with determination.
O bjective abstraction, a non-geometric style of abstract art.
P oetry, when spoken out loud is a performance art, like dance, music, acting.
Q uattrocento, the artistic styles of the late Middle Ages, in Italy.
R eflection of innermost emotions could produce aesthetic objects.
S kill and imagination create art that is beautiful or expresses ideas or feelings.
T heatre, collaborative form of performing art played before a live audience.
U nanalyzable creative power and unique and individual emotions in visual form.
V isual arts like painting, drawing, sculpture, photography are visual objects.
W orks of art are categorized as visual art, literary art and performing art.
X ylophone, xylorimba are percussion instruments use for dynamic compositions.
Y outh art, young people taking part in creative, cultural, expressive activity.
Z ackenstil is a zig zag or jagged style used in painting, sculpture, stained glass.
The
Poorest
Choice in life.
I’m not being judgmental nor commenting on my feedback I’m just clarifying and
respectfully explaining my view of the poem. I appreciate the feedback, I understand when a
poem is written everyone relates to it in a different way. One never knows the ramifications
of a single piece of work. In the epigram form there is not much to work with due to the six
syllable meter. In my initial thought of ‘Aborted,’ from my creative perspective, was a
metaphor of aborting a single thought.
If one aborts a thought, the poem cannot be born into existence, thus no life of words,
no poetry, nor a beautiful contribution to literature to continue or record our stay in time,
etc.
I categorized my poem as life because we abort things daily and that’s a part of life. I am
explaining the creative depth of my poem’s entirety.
Yes, life can be aborted along with a thought, or a wonderful opportunity.
When poetry is written it is usually draped in metaphors and similes from the creators vision
and unique perspective. I hope my explanation shows the depth of a poem goes way deeper
than its surface... Raul Moreno
Now is not categorized as such because it rose out of the sordid ashes of a yester-moment
Now is not classified as fresh because it arose pristine and bleached from yester-hour’s horror
The uniqueness of now is assigned according to a mind vision that gives permission to peer with a microscopic lens
Along with the realization that there has never been nor will there ever be again
this minute of this hour of this day of this week of this month of this year of this decade
And with the arousal of this awakening comes the ability to embrace now
Following closely the ability to embrace now comes the energy of gratitude
Not the gratitude that rinses our souls like gentle rain on a summer day nor the sensual experience of a warm cleansing shower after a physical workout
But the gratitude that puts every fiber of your being on alert, that makes your heartbeat faster, that makes you gasp for air although every window is open
So that now is not just a space to be occupied on a planet that does not rest on its laurels
Now will always be authentic and original because it is not a revolving door
Now is an entrance or an exit-both new and unclaimed
You choose
I lived at a time, in my personal opinion, when the men in my culture were not the brightest. They preferred boys over girls but used the females to give birth to their pride and joy, their greatest delight. It was not enough to be less desirable in gender, but females had to compete with other females.
The Biblical record indicates that I gave birth to Jacob's only daughter Dinah and six of his twelve sons. My mother's name is not recorded, but you know me as Laban's daughter and Rachel's sister. My name is not as common as 'Mary or Martha' but perhaps you know someone name Leah. If you do, then you will not mind taking the time to read about me, a lady name Leah.
Case in point. Rachel was my younger sister, and the two of us were given in marriage to the same man. I never held it against her as it was no fault of her own, but because of her beauty, I was not loved by our husband as was Rachel. In a sense, our drama was another form of the beauty and the beast. In other words, my sister was respected and appreciated, but I felt being taken along for the feast. Can you imagine how I felt that first wedding night when Jacob discovered that I was not Rachel? That's right. I was used as a ruse by my father and rejected by my husband. Some things can only be healed by God.
God saw that I was not loved and over time, he moved lovingly on my behalf. There might be a natural principle that says, "Hurt people hurt other people", but there is a higher principle that enables hurt people to heal hurt people. One can rise above 'that loveless feeling', that casted life of both parental and marital abuse. Sometimes we are categorized and treated as the 'least of these', but God sees us differently and allows us to rise like yeast. I was loved by God more than any parent or husband ever could.
081520PS